


Ten Towns To Thursday (Two Towns Over)

by Katitty



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec isn't technically named but we know it's him, Clary vandalises graves but that's okay Alec loves her, M/M, Photographer Alec, Writer!Magnus, a weirdo characteriser, i guess, is that a word, is there another tag for those?, magnus Bane loves trains, magnus is a weirdo, max is dead and the world is sad about it, photographer!alec, soft, they are soft, writer Magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 03:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katitty/pseuds/Katitty
Summary: Magnus Bane could be considered an introvert. He just really loves trains. And Thursdays.orA writer encounters a photographer and just really doesn't know what to make of him.





	Ten Towns To Thursday (Two Towns Over)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Malec Trash Squad](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Malec+Trash+Squad).



> Thanks to Soup (Soph) for being my lovely beta on this and thanks to Magnus for really loving trains.

Thursdays are for drifting. For trains to take you further than any other day could.

At least, that's what Magnus thinks.

Mondays and Tuesdays will take you two towns over, Wednesday could probably get you three. Friday through to Sunday night might get you one, but Thursdays can take you ten.

Magnus rides the train nine towns out and back again. Ten is a scary place.

\---

Thursdays are particularly hard.

The world turns too slow on Thursdays. That's why they take you so far.

Magnus sometimes sits with his head against the window. The harsh vibrations seem to speed the clock he's racing against.

\---

Magnus tries a new carriage today. The third, instead of the first that he usually rides.

A young man gets on at the second stop.

A heavy camera hangs from his neck, a bouquet sticks out of his backpack.

Magnus never gets on the first carriage again.

\---

A lady with pram comes on, her baby tucked securely under her shirt as she attempts to breastfeed and board the train at the same time.

Magnus rushes to help.

The man gets there before him, but smiles as he helps fold the awkward baby carrying contraption.

She thanks them both with a relieved sigh.

The man takes a photo of her when she sits.

\---

The new week passes slow and Magnus rides for hours. Thursdays let him do that.

Two towns over, the man boards again, his backpack bursting with flowers, his camera clutched tightly in his hands.

A young boy, maybe two years old, spends the ride poking the man in the head. The mother seems oblivious.

He just smiles and takes a picture.

\---

Magnus wonders for a moment, as the man jumps off the train, down onto the platform, if maybe he's dangerous. An axe murderer who captures pictures of his victims as trophies, or a way to hunt them down, before slaughtering them while they scream for mercy.

Magnus writes that down.

It's a good idea for his next book.

\---

Magnus rides on Mondays and Wednesdays and Saturdays too.

Any day his schedule lets him.

There's a field about an hours ride away from his station. Sometimes there's horses.

Thursdays take him past the field and around a hill, all the way to the ocean sometimes.

Tuesdays don't take him nearly that far.

\---

Three Thursdays and he's starting to think of the camera man as his friend.

His serial killer friend, who's actually a monster in a human suit. He hunts down innocent victims and rips their lungs out through their chests. Eats their organs and pickles their eyes.

The bouquet of flowers is in his hand today. He takes a picture of an old lady smelling them.

\---

Magnus brings his laptop sometimes. Writes during the hours and hours of travelling through towns that don't know him. Towns he's only seen the outskirts of.

The man rides for three hours every Thursday.

Always gets on the same carriage, and always brings a bouquet of flowers.

Maybe he makes women fall in love with him. Takes their hearts emotionally and then carves them from their bodies physically; feeds them to his twenty-two fish.

The man snaps a picture.

Magnus blinks and looks around the carriage.

He's the only other one there.

\---

Five Thursdays, and Magnus is eager to see the serial killing photographer monster in a human suit, who may or may not be out to feed women's broken hearts to fish.

His bouquet of flowers stick out of his backpack. A tripod too, almost squishing them.

So maybe the flowers aren't important.

Maybe he doesn't care so much if the women are woo'd, just so long as they think he cares. Hmm.

The tripod could be to hold the camera steady while he films the killings.

Wow.

What a sick bastard.

\---

The carriage is almost full.

The man sits carefully across from Magnus, an apologetic smile on his face when Magnus glances up.

'Well, shit.' Magnus thinks. 'I wouldn't be mad if those eyes murdered me.'

The man doesn't strike up a conversation though, and Magnus doesn't remove the headphones he knows are stopping any words from being exchanged.

He's busy.

His character needs a face and it's finally right in front of him, damn it!

Green eyes that shine hazel when the trees block the sun. Unruly, raven black hair, sexy as hell when it's not in the confines of a baseball cap. A scarred eyebrow, probably from a victim that fought back. A dimple, right on the tip of his nose and oh- oh god. Lips.

Pink lips that were probably sculpted by god himself.

Holy shit. If Magnus is his next victim, he hopes he's at least going to get a kiss before hand.

The man smiles every time Magnus looks up.

\---

It's almost painful. Having to wait a whole week of Fridays and Sundays and Tuesdays to see him again.

To unlock something else about this serial killing monster. This beautiful man that Magnus really likes the look of.

Boring, the week drags and drags.

And then he's there.

Tall and handsome with his bouquet of flowers.

Second stop, on. Fourth stop, off.

He films the field as the train rushes past it, holds his camera steady, waves at the horses as they fade into the distance.

Blushes when he notices Magnus watching.

A serial killing farmer.

Peculiar.

\---

A crowded carriage again.

Magnus shuffles closer to the window, doesn't want to deal with people and their sweaty hands today.

The man plonks down across from him, adjusts Magnus's bags like he has the right, and pulls out an old worn down book.

And hell, if Magnus didn't know what the cover of his first book looked like...well.

It's old, the book, the spine is bent and crinkled. You couldn't make out the title if you tried.

The man tucks his pinky under the bottom, pushes a chunk of pages back into place and Magnus's heart melts right there.

The book is literally falling apart.

Well loved.

  
The man looks up, blushes and picks his camera up with his spare hand.

The flash is blinding but Magnus is far too happy to care.

The once deep grey of the cover is now almost an off cream. The place where a young woman's body should be is now a white shadow of what looks like a human. Magnus is buzzing.

"Do you like it?"

It's rushed. Forced out and painful. Magnus hasn't used his voice in weeks.

The man startles, so do several people around then, and maybe Magnus should take his headphones off before yelling at strangers.

"Do you like it?" He repeats softly, his eyes falling to his first work of art excitedly.

"Yes."

A simple answer.

Magnus wants to scream.

\---

"...she has to like...fight her way past it, with guns and weapons I didn't even know existed before this. It's awesome. I wish she had a bow. I love archery."

Magnus nodded along, excitement bubbling inside of him.

His Adonis featured, serial killing farmer, who was secretly a womanising monster in a human suit that ran around photographing his victims and filming their deaths before feeding their hearts to his fish...liked his book.

Holy. Shit.

He was going to burst.

"My sister and brother got matching tattoos of a quote from it, actually. And me too." He looked a little sad.

No. No Magnus didn't want him to be sad.

"The brother that gifted it to you?"

He shook his head. "No, my other brother."

Magnus smiled.

"What quote?"

"Hmm? Oh." A shy smile grew across his face. "'He must not stay hidden in darkness. We must remember him in our hearts.'"

Magnus frowned. "That's from when Haven* died."

"Yeah," he whispered so softly, if Magnus hadn't have been leaning as close to the man as possible, he would have missed it, "it's for Max."

\---

It's odd.

Travelling through a whole week just to listen to a man gush about Magnus's work.

But Magnus travels. Through Fridays and Mondays until he's all the way back to Thursday, second stop, camera and bouquet. Wait.

His backpack is missing today. So is his camera.

Magnus frowns.

There's a bouquet in his hand, but it's clearly been assaulted. So has the man holding them.

\---

The loud plonk of the man throwing himself onto the seat is almost as heartbreaking as the tears in his eyes. Almost.

"I can't give him these."

Magnus tilts his head at the broken whisper. He has an idea what's going on but, to be honest, he couldn't fathom how a serial killer would let himself be mugged.

"You fought for flowers over your camera?"

It doesn't figure. The thing had the evidence of the man coming to contact with several murder victims.

"I can't give him these."

He seems to be ignoring the world, in favour of the flowers.

\---

Magnus gets off when the man does.

His satchel and laptop bag looking far more odd on him than would be expected.

"I'll buy you more flowers."

The man still isn't listening.

\---

Magnus supposes that following a mass murderer is a bad idea. No matter how attractive he might be.

But he did it anyway.

And it wasn't _technically_  following. He was merely...using him as a tour guide. From a distance.

The man knew he was following him. He'd seen Magnus about two minutes into the walk. Magnus had seen the man see him and knew very well he wasn't being stealthy.

Still. He was trying.

The man stopped at a florist, stared at the bouquets for a minute, and turned to sulk at Magnus, who was standing a few metres away, trying to blend in.

He approached awkwardly. One leg in front of the other, slowly edging towards the shop that was bursting with flowers.

He waited for a complaint. An awkward comment about how weird Magnus was, or a suggestion that he turn around before he had his ass handed to him.

The man sighed.

"I was gonna steal one but you're watching me."

Magnus huffed a laugh.

"I'll buy you one. Just because you made me feel bad for watching you."

The man looked up shyly, a small, hopeful smile toying at his lips. He reached a hand out and pointed at a small bouquet. Magnus nodded, and leaned forwards to pick one up.

"No." He said, swinging around to face his man-suit-wearing-monster friend. "I'm not buying them."

The man looked sad, a little accepting, and very embarrassed.

"You were going to steal these. For whatever reason, you were willing to break the law. I'm going to buy..." he glanced around, checking all the most beautiful bouquets until he found the most expensive bundle he could. "This one."

He plucked up a bunch of rainbow roses, a few white ones scattered around the edges. For aesthetic reasons, probably.

Magnus glanced at the man and sighed. "Look away. You don't need to know how much these are."

\---

They continued walking, hand in hand only after Magnus almost got taken out by a large man chasing a cat. They simply didn't let go.

They came to a stop outside a cemetery. The tall gates almost trying to mock Magnus into crying.

"I'll wait ou-"

"No you won't."

They trudged forward.

\---

The grave was small. Smaller than expected at least, with toys and angel figures and rotting flowers covering most of it.

Magnus watched as Alec ran his finger across a sharpie'd picture in the top left corner of the gravestone.

"Clary." It was whispered so softly Magnus almost didn't hear him.

"You're friends with someone who vandalises graves?"

"Only this one. She was giving him art lessons." He sighed. "I haven't heard from her in a long time."

MAXWELL JOSEPH LIGHTWOOD

AND BEYOND

August 98 - September 07

 

"Hey Hermanito." It was whispered so softly that Magnus was sure the man was trying to get an ounce of privacy. He stepped back, turned to walk away.

"This man brought you flowers. And he likes the book you brought me for my birthday. He's pretty."

The last part was barely a breath, but Magnus knows he heard right. There's a blush creeping upturn mans neck, his shirt doing a terrible job at hiding it.

"The flowers are rainbow. You like rainbows!"

He spoke softer for a while, his voice almost inaudible, and Magnus couldn't find it in himself to move his feet.

"Jace sent a postcard. He's in Germany now and he found that store that makes those candies you love. Dad got a new car. Mamma and Izzy are building a new house and Izzy has a masters degree in physics."

Magnus felt tears sting his eyes. This was not how he planned to spend his Thursday.

"Simon changed his band name again, I still don't know why it's a band....it's still just him, and Clary had another show. But... well I wasn't invited. Umm...I lost my camera today. And my book. And my wallet...and my...keys. Fuck. Shit- sorry I know you hate swearing."

A chuckle left Magnus's throat without his consent. They didn't speak for a while.

\---

The sun set slowly, and they made their way out of the cemetery just before dark.

"It's creepy now," Magnus murmured, "and I'm hungry."

They ate kebabs on the walk back to the train station and Magnus scribbled words in a notebook while the man took surprisingly beautiful pictures on his phone.

It took Magnus a couple of minutes to realise that it was _his_  phone, and the man had somehow taken it out of his back pocket.

"Who's 'the man'?"

Magnus pulled his notebook to his chest and smiled awkwardly. "I don't know. I haven't figured that out yet. I'm kind of liking the mystery."

There was a frown, then a flash. And suddenly a train was raging past them and Magnus was wondering how he didn't hear it coming.

\---

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you want a part 2! And what you'd want it to be about! 


End file.
